As part of our birthday weekend movie marathon, Tom and I saw “Big Eyes.” This is the story of Margaret Keane, the artist who obsessively painted children with overlarge eyes. Amy Adams is one of my favorite actresses working today and she is pitch-perfect as a Doris Day-style early Sixties woman with a streak of rebellion and an artistic inclination.

We loved the scenes of North Beach in the early 1960s—talk about movie-making on your street, San Franciscans! Those classic cars, wow! Our old friend, the late Enrico Banducci, has a part in the story.

Through a series of misunderstandings leading to a campaign of lies, Walter Keane took credit for Margaret’s work, though in fact he never painted one stroke in his life. The film reveals Walter’s tragic delusion about being an artist and his real genius at marketing and promotion. I’m happy to say Margaret finally received her rightful recognition in the art world’s gentle equivalent of “Gunfight at the OK Corral.”. Cudos to director Tim Burton for telling her story while Margaret is still alive.

The film also addresses—as it must—the question of “What is art?” More specifically, “Is it bad art?” From the North Beach gallerist selling (or not selling) abstracts across the street from the Keane gallery to the outraged New York art critic, Margaret encountered some pretty harsh criticism. With his inimitable logic, Andy Warhol—no stranger to this question—issued this proclamation, “How can it be bad if so many people are buying it?”

Well, yes. Seventeen million dollars’ worth of how-can-it-be-bad in the early 1970s. One could also ask the same question of “Fifty Shades of Grey” or Damian Hirst.

So there you have it, my friends. Even the gatekeepers don’t know what will resonate with large numbers of consumers until something hits big.